


Never a demon

by BlueMushroomDevil



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Body Horror, Crack Treated Seriously, Death is such a bro, Kissing, M/M, but i had sooo much FUN writing this really:), it is a bit sad too, look this is emotional ride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 15:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20566661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMushroomDevil/pseuds/BlueMushroomDevil
Summary: Hell did not appreciate Crowley's disobedience and decided it was time to get even.





	Never a demon

**Author's Note:**

> i had so much fun writing this, so much! i have to include Death more in my fics hes amazing
> 
> also, my comp burned out, so im using the half tablet half laptop thingy and the keyboard is really different so this is a paaaaain to write. every. damn. TIME i tried to use the FUCKING apostrophe the button got stuck and wrote like 20 characters UGH
> 
> anyway i hope you enjoy :)

It started slowly, Crowley did not notice at first at all.  
He was aware of slight burning sensation at his shoulder blades, but didn't think anything of it. It wasn't bad to think about it or even worry about it. He thought maybe sleeping would help, but the slight stinging turned into a stabbing sensation anytime he was close to falling asleep.  
It was an annoyance, but Crowley thought it would go away after a while. After all, winter was starting and the cold weather always messed up with him.  
However, the more he tried to ignore it, the more painful it was becoming.  
He became more aware of it after two days, when the pain was forcing him to stay awake. He thought maybe getting drunk could help numb the pain or make it go away. So he called Aziraphale, but as soon as his friend picked his call up, Crowley passed out.

He woke up about 10 minutes later, feeling much worse than before. He opened his eyes, his head was spinning and he felt dizzy. It took him a couple of minutes to regain focus and control of his own eyes, everything around him was spinning. It felt as if he drank 34 bottles of wine, which was his record.  
In short, Crowley felt like shit.  
He groaned and tried to get up from the floor, but was immediately hit with a strong wave of nausea and his body felt heavy, so heavy, like his limbs couldn't hold him anymore. He felt like he weighted twice his size, maybe even more than that. He thought of changing his form, but couldn't muster the energy or recollect his thoughts to focus. As soon as he tried to get up he was overcome with incredible burning pain that spread from his back to his limbs, it was like being bathed in holy water. Then he felt awful running sensation spreading up from his stomach, he could hear faint ringing in his ears, that was slowly getting louder and stronger, overwhelming his senses. He opened his mouth to take a deep breath, but the nauseating feeling only got stronger. Then as if something was ripping him from him inside, like something wanted to crawl out, tearing on his insides, snapping the bones of his human body, until Crowley had a passing thought, wishing it would just be over and started vomiting on the floor. Large quantities of black fluid was tearing apart his lungs, forcing it's way from inside out through his mouth, eyes and nose. It smelled horrible, it smelled like rotten corpses, it tasted like death and felt like hell. And it was cold. So cold. Yet it was burning his insides before it got out.  
He was shuddering hunched over the dark, disgusting liquid, that was coming from inside of him and suffocating him and every time Crowley thought it was going to be over, it started all over again, until his whole flat reeked of death. Crowley felt darkness and freezing cold engulfing him.  
And just as he thought he was finally going to pass out into sweet unconsciousness, the stabbing in his back resumed, stronger than before and Crowley was started to be afraid.  
He wondered, if this is what death felt like.  
Did Hell come back for him after all?  
Did He come back for him after all?  
Just as the thought popped in his tortured mind, his right arm got twisted by an invisible force. And it kept pulling and pulling, until Crowley cried out in pain and then he could hear loud, ears-piercing popping sound and his arm went limp.  
Crowley fell into the dark, death smelling puddle and out of it started raising a dark, ominous figure.  
Ohnononononono-oh shit!  
It is the tallest of the four horsemen, the one that never left, the one that always stayed close, the one you could not escape from.  
NICE PLANTS YOU HAVE THERE, Death said.  
Crowley knew he couldn't pass out now. He tried to thank Death, but vomited instead again, his eyelids felt heavy, wouldn't it be nice to just close them for a while?  
IT'S NOT EVERYDAY I AM CALLED TO THE HELL'S SERVANT PASSING, Death retorted.  
,,I'm not-'' Crowley's senses were starting to get numb, the pain was slowly going away and somehow, that was even worse. He started coughing, the disgusting liquid oozing from his mouth. He felt weak, the stabbing in his back was getting worse, it felt like he was getting hit by a whip. ,,I'm not d-'' Crowley started choking on his own vomit.  
Death watched him quietly, walking around his flat. The plants caught his attention.  
QUITE A NICE SPECIMEN YOU HAVE THERE, Death remarked.  
By then, Crowley was in tremendous pain. He was trembling, holding his knees. It was so cold.  
FUNNY THING IS THIS WHOLE ROOM DOESN'T SMELL OF EVIL AT ALL. Death turned to tortured Crowley. ARE YOU SURE YOU LIVE HERE?  
,,Why-'' Crowley's voice was growing weak and sounded pathetic even to his own ears. ,,Why are you here?''  
I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW AS WELL. Death was looming over Crowley's broken body. There was another loud, awful snapping sound and Crowley found he cannot feel his legs, after he screamed the air out of his lungs. LET ME SEE YOUR WINGS.  
Crowley felt tears running down his face, realizing that it was over, this was it. He was never going to ride his Bentley again, he was never going to watch Golden Girls again, he was never going too get drunk again, he was never going to feed the ducks in the park again with...  
He was never going to be with Aziraphale again. He would never bicker with him again, and Aziraphale, dear Aziraphale... he was going to be alone.  
With broken shout, Crowley sprung out his wings, more of the black liquid sprayed the walls and Death's shoes.  
The pain was excruciating, a sob broke out of his throat.  
Crowley's wings were no longer tidy, full of feathers and huge.  
They were just two huge numbs of cracked bones, covered in Crowley's blood and the incredibly disgusting black liquid. Crowley was staring at Death with hazy, pleading eyes. He wanted to live.  
,,I-I don't want to-'' Crowley sobbed and shuddered in cold.  
Death was about to reply when suddenly there was a ruckus at the door.  
,,So the Lord has finally made up his mind him?'' an almost excited voice said. If Crowley wasn't in tremendous amount of pain, he would hiss in displeasure. It was Hastur.  
,,It zzzzzeeemz zzzo.'' buzzed the other voice, that belonged to the Prince of Hell, Beelzebub.  
,,Noone can outsmart Hell.'' Hastur replied, as the two servants of Hell entered the room and both stopped in their tracks upon seeing Death.  
Death did not acknowledge their presence at first, turning his attention to the plants yet again, watching in almost fascinated manner. Crowley laid on floor, wondering in his misery, why the last person to see before his death just had to be Hastur.  
,,Rider of the Apocalypse,'' Beelzebub addressed Death. ,,You are not needed here. Hell will be handling him.''  
STRANGE. Death replied ominously, the plants started quivering in fear. I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION I AM TO HANDLE DEATH ON EARTH.  
Hastur visibly recoiled back. He did not like this one bit, although seeing the flash bastard tremble in pain on the floor brought him huge amounts of pleasure.  
,,Not when it's one of our own.'' Beelzebub stood his ground and Hastur stepped forward to finish Crowley off, who hid himself behind Death, not seeing any other option. He would laugh if the pain wasn't killing him.  
HE WAS NEVER ONE OF YOU. Death replied and Hastur stop walking towards Crowley. NO DEMON WOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF M-25.  
The room was suddenly much more colder, that both servants of the Hell noticed. Crowley was close to not feeling anything at all. He wished he could at least see Aziraphale one last time, as opposed to Hastur.  
What is he doing now, Crowley wondered. He would place a bet that he is sitting in his bookshop with his nose stuck in a book.  
Beelzebub seemed unsure suddenly, Hastur's eyes were full of fire.  
Crowley felt rising pain in his stomach, an invisible force on his ribs, until it snapped and Crowley vomited weakly, gasping for air and choking. He thought of Aziraphale, his heavenly blue eyes hidden behind his reading glasses, golden locks that often got loose everywhere, with a faint smile he remembered their drunken talking about dolphins, he remembered the way his eyes lit up when he got his hands on some smelly, old book, he remembered when they faced certain annihilation together... it seemed so far away now. And it seemed like it didn't even matter at all in the end.  
Aziraphale, stupid, smart, wonderful and terrible Aziraphale. He wished he could atleast see his only and oldest friend one last time.  
As if they were connected, at that precise moment the half-angel showed up at the door. He was fighting an inner battle with himself. It wasn't like to Crowley to call him for no reason and to not pick up again. And after all, last time that happened, Crowley was visited by someone from Hell. Aziraphale just had a terrible memory recollection and decided it was better to check. After all, it was probably nothing, but still. It would be better to know Crowley was safe and called him on accident than something bad happening to him.  
,,Crowley, dear, I-'' Aziraphale went pale immediately upon seeing not one, but two demons and also Death, standing in Crowley's flat and wave of dread washed over him. He couldn't see Crowley, but he could smell the terrible scent in the air, it made him dizzy. ,,Crowley!'' he shouted and finally noticed him hunched in pain behind Death. Upon seeing the state he was in he fought back tears and the strong pain in his chest, as he ran right to him, the presence of Death himself here seemed not to sink in. The only thing he saw and could focus on was Crowley, beaten and covered in blood and some horrible, dreadful black liquid. He sunk on the floor to him, not caring about his expensive clothing getting soaked in the awful and thick liquid. He stopped short of touching him, worried and full of anxiety not to cause anymore pain. Tears shot into his eyes and he felt like something was stuck in his throat.  
Crowley's beautiful black wings he adored so much were gone, his arm was twisted and his legs were limp. Crowley's serpent eyes seemed much darker now, like their lost their light. Aziraphale felt sorrow and anger building up inside of him, he looked at Death, who stood before Crowley, almost as if he was protecting him and at the two demons, who seemed unsure and also awkward.  
Crowley groaned silently and tried to inch towards Aziraphale, who took the hint immediately and placed his hands on Crowley's shoulders, wincing in shock on how cold Crowley's body was.  
AS I WAS SAYING. Death continued, rather awkwardly. CRAW-CROWLEY, IS NOT ONE OF YOU ANYMORE. YOU CANNOT CAUSE DEATH OF HUMANS DIRECTLY OR SHOULD I TELL YOU WHAT HELL IS SUPPOSED TO BE? HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?  
Beelzebub shifted awkwardly, Hastur finally took a step back.  
,,We are here by Lords ordersssss-'' Beelzebub started weakly, having an expression of slight fear if their mission has failed.  
THEN PERHAPS HE SHOULD BE REMINDED THAT THERE ARE THINGS THAT ARE FORBIDDEN. Death stepped forward and touched Hastur unexpectedly, who started screaming, as his body was dissolved and nothing but a pile of ash remained.  
Now Beelzebub's face twisted into terror and he stepped back from Death. ,,I-I will let him know, Lord.'' And with that Beelzebub was gone too.  
,,I-I thought you coudn't-'' Aziraphale, who has been trying to figure out, how to help his dying, cold friend, inquired. ,,Y-you can't kill a demon-'' and Death shook his head.  
I DID NOT. REST ASSURED HE WILL NOT BOTHER YOU ANY LONGER. Death looked at Crowley, whose eyes lost its light, his fingers hooked on Aziraphale's sleeve. He was still alive, but only barely. He stepped forward and touched what was left of Crowley's wings. They turned into ash.  
Aziraphale seemed terrified for a moment, but Crowley let out content sigh. His broken arm snapped back into it's place as well as his rib. Aziraphale watched in amazement.  
How could Death do such a thing?  
I TOOK AWAY ALL NEFARIOUS EVIL THAT HAS BEEN DONE. Death replied, sending Aziraphale's thoughts. REST ASSURED, HE WILL STILL NEED HEALING. BUT I BELIEVE HUMANS CAN HELP YOU FOR ONCE.  
Aziraphale stared at Death for a second and then nodded. ,,Right, healing. Healing! Hospital!'' and before he snapped his fingers, Crowley looked at Death and finally thanked him out loud.  
Death stood alone in Crowley's flat for a moment, before he finally gave in and took one of the plants. However, it rotted and died immediately under his bony hands.  
OF COURSE. Death thought, annoyed.  
He will just have to visit Crowley one day again, to admire their beauty.

Crowley woke up to a horrible pain in his head and blinding light in his eyes. It was so bright, he couldn't see.  
Last thing he remember was dying behind Death himself, holding onto Aziraphale.  
Was he dead? Was this where demons go when they die?  
Is this some kind of even worse Hell?  
He groaned in annoyance and heard silent gasp and then snap of the fingers, dimming the lights down.  
,,Crowley!'' Aziraphale rushed to him from his seat that was next to the bed. His face was twisted in anxiety and Crowley could swear he got skinnier.  
He didn't like it.  
,,Aziraphale?'' he said in weak voice. His body hurt as if it was doused in holy water, the most of the pain was in his shoulder blades, where his wings used to be. It was as if he had knives stuck in there.  
Hearing Crowley's voice, Aziraphale's face twisted even more and tears started falling down his face. ,,The-the state you were in-'' he sobbed.  
Suddenly, memory finally caught up with Crowley and he remembered what happened. Well, he mostly remembered the incredible amount of pain he felt. Then he remembered Death.  
He didn't understand, why Death helped him and realized, that maybe it's better not to question it. Or if he is going to do it, maybe some different time, not when he has crying Aziraphale sitting next to him.  
,,Oh, Aziraphale.'' he said, raising his hand. Aziraphale took it and smiled, although a bit weakly. ,,I-I thought I was never going to see you again.'' he admitted and wondered in the back of his head, what kind of a medicine was he given by doctors to speak so truthfully. He was sure he was going to say 'Stop crying, you idiot'.  
,,You worried me so much, you-you-you stupid!'' Aziraphale said, angrily.  
And Crowley believed him. He didn't have anything to say to that so he kissed Aziraphale instead.  
And Aziraphale kissed Crowley back.

Back at home Crowley could scream his lungs out when he found the dead plant and rest assured, the other plants were very scared.  
Death was too embarassed to admit it was his fault.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments are appreciated really:) I will probably be writing another fic including weed with Crowley and Azira soon, because i love them


End file.
